


Fashion Sense

by miera



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Historical Dress, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2018-10-07 13:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10361964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Series of short fics about Lucy’s historical costumes and Wyatt’s thoughts on them. Not written in episode order, just as inspiration strikes.





	1. S102 The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln

An unexpected side effect of these time travel missions was that Wyatt was learning far more than he ever cared to know about women’s fashions through the centuries.

Like most guys, he had little interest in women’s clothing styles. More skin showing was generally better, especially on a cute girl, but beyond that, he had never cared much.

That was before he lived through an underwire bra changing the history of the world.

He had never given a lot of thought to how cumbersome these costumes had been for women in the past either, until he had to help Lucy try to navigate the lifeboat with all those damn skirts. He made the mistake of asking why women would put themselves through all that nonsense and got an earful from Lucy on the relationship between women’s clothing and their overall place society. He honestly had tuned out most of what she was saying, and made a note to keep his rhetorical questions to himself in the future unless he wanted a lecture.

It was that second dress from the Lincoln mission that made him really start paying attention. Unlike her other outfit, which apparently was what counted for “practical, everyday” clothes in 1865, this was for a date. Or what constituted a date in 1865. 

This was a dress a woman in this time would wear to impress a man.

Not that Wyatt cared about the fact that Lucy was getting dressed up for anyone. He was concerned that she was going to be where they knew Flynn was, in the line of fire. His intention was to save Seward and get to the theater as fast as he could. Which had nothing to do with the slightly awed tone of voice Lucy used when talking about Robert Todd Lincoln. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed Lucy was attractive before now. He’d looked, back in that jail cell in New Jersey, because he was a guy and a woman was taking her shirt and bra off right in front of him. It was just a reflex for a straight man. No big deal. The important thing at the time was springing them and stopping Flynn from killing everyone on the Hindenburg.

When she came out in the new fancy dress, despite the tension between the three of them, he couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face. She looked… _pretty_. It sounded like something his ten year old self would say, but it was true. The dress wasn’t “sexy,” it wasn’t “hot.” It drew his eyes to her neck and shoulders, which were just about the only parts of her body visible given the skirts and everything, which was hardly revealing compared to most of the club clothes women in their time wore regularly.

But somehow she looked like it belonged on her.

So maybe the designers back then had known what they were doing even if it wasn’t what he would consider logical or what anyone would think was practical.

Her helpless little “do I look okay?” gesture was cute too.

Unfortunately, the dress got ruined by Lincoln’s blood, which was so far out of the realm of anything Wyatt ever thought he would experience, he didn’t know what to do with it, so he just put it into the box with all the other craziness that had arrived in his life since he walked into Mason Industries the first time.


	2. S101 Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about that moment in the jail on the Hindenburg mission.

Wyatt would swear on a stack of Bibles that he was not having any lascivious thoughts about Lucy’s bra when he asked her for it. 

He wasn’t. After spilling more about Jessica to her than he ever told anyone, he was pacing around their cell trying to refocus on the mission. He cataloged everything he could see, trying to find something that would help them get out of here. His eyes caught on Lucy and he had a flash of her panicking about her clothes before they left Mason Industries and his response about how no one was going to see her modern, underwire bra. 

A wire was something he could use to pick the lock.

That was it. He was completely focused on the mission. He had no x-rated thoughts at all.

Not until _after_ he told her to take it off.

It was like his body caught up with his brain and said, “oh, hey, attractive woman stripping out of her clothes right in front of you!” And not some random stranger, but someone he knew. Kind of. It had been a long while since a woman had been taking her clothes off around him for any reason. So it was understandable that he noticed some things. 

He caught a glimpse of her bare body, the smooth skin of her back, then she was tossing the garment at him. He filed the visual away.

The fabric of the bra was still warm from her. Which was totally logical but somehow made his pulse speed up. 

When he had to use his teeth to tear the fabric, he couldn’t escape inhaling her scent - perfume? lotion? he had no idea - since the material was just under his nose. 

He filed all of that away too. The only thing that mattered was getting the cell door unlocked because Rufus was about to get his head split open, and they still had to save everyone on the Hindenburg, including Kate, and Wyatt had to kill Garcia Flynn. 

It was just a moment, a few seconds, and in the middle of all the chaos and utter bizarreness of changing history and time traveling, it should have been something he forgot.

When Lucy followed him to the parking lot and challenged him about shooting Flynn, though, Wyatt glanced at her clothing. She was back in the sweater and jeans she had been wearing when she first arrived at Mason Industries. But still in that same bra, not that he could see it now, but he knew what it looked like under her clothes and that did weird things to his insides. 

Especially when he remembered her bra now had a hole in it thanks to his teeth.

That thought threw him so off balance he barely managed to reply to her question and walk away. He ended up sitting in his truck for several minutes. He told himself it was to watch Lucy get into the car Homeland was driving her home in. Just concerned for her safety. Nothing else.  


	3. S107 Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt's thoughts get away from him during "Stranded."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this like a year ago and just realized I never added it here.

Wyatt is aware that he’s stubborn. It’s not like this is news to him. And it gets worse when he’s tired and stressed out. He knows all of this.

Which is why he’s lying here on a bunch of damp leaves staring into the forests of what will someday be Pittsburgh and listening to his so-called teammates argue instead of telling them to shut the hell up so he can sleep.

He needs to sleep. They’re out here in the middle of fucking nowhere and Lucy has no idea what Flynn could possibly want or where he’d be, not to mention French troops roaming around the area. If he’s going to keep these people alive, he needs to rest while its his turn.

Lucy is supposed to be on watch right now, but Rufus is bitching about, well, everything at this point. She’s trying her hardest not to rise to the bait and keep calm, telling Rufus to just think of something else and sleep. But she’s reaching her limit. He can hear it in her voice.

If he wasn’t so pissed at her for lying to him about Flynn and that journal, he’d roll over and watch her build up to the breaking point.

He doesn’t though, and Rufus keeps muttering about how itchy his trousers are. Wyatt has a bunch of comebacks for that but as angry as he is at Lucy, military training about not talking nasty shit in front of a woman keeps him from blurting out some of the cruder comments he could make right now.

So he just thinks them at Rufus. Aggressively.

Lucy finally reaches the end of her rope and hisses at Rufus, “Hey! You try getting through all of this in a corset and then you can complain, okay?”

That successfully shuts Rufus up but it nearly makes Wyatt burst out laughing, because the word “corset” immediately prompts a ridiculous image of Lucy in some sort of black leather get-up with a riding crop or something, trying to act all seductive and dominating. Which is not Lucy. At all.

He smothers the laugh and tries to focus on the blissful silence that follows and getting himself to sleep. But his mind wanders, pointing out that with the dress Lucy has on, the clothing underneath it would have to match or it would not only be anachronistic but also bleed through the material.

The image forms in his head before he can stop it. Lucy in white, the corset pushing her breasts up while also drawing attention to the curve of her waist and hips. Somehow the pale color is a hundred times more arousing than the black leather, and Wyatt catches himself imagining the ribbons dangling down over her thighs before he squeezes his eyes shut.

Shit. Bad idea. Bad idea. He absolutely should not be thinking about this. He should not be thinking about Lucy standing in front of him, wearing nothing underneath the corset, the buttons leading down to dark curls of hair while his hands spread her legs wider to give him access…

Fuck.

_Knock it off, Logan_ , he tells himself sternly. Not appropriate. He shouldn’t be thinking about Lucy that way. And this is not the time or place for a hard-on that he can’t deal with. What is he going to do, walk off into the woods and then not come back for 10 minutes?

Actually that sounds kind of appealing.

But wrong. He can’t leave the team, not while they’re out here and exposed and unsure where the enemy might be.

He forces himself to recite baseball stats with a single-minded focus until the temptation passes.

Several days later, when they’re back in civilization and he’s alone in his own shower, if he jerks himself off picturing pale thighs and dark hair underneath a white corset, he never allows the fantasy to go to her face, keeping himself technically within the limits.


End file.
